


A bed beneath the willow

by Maewn



Series: Beyond the reaches of Sea, Sky and Stars [11]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Earthblood elves, Gen, Non-binary character, Worldbuilding, non-graphic childbirth, original earthblood elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewn/pseuds/Maewn
Summary: A child of the Earthblood is born as the winds of change begin to howl through the world.
Series: Beyond the reaches of Sea, Sky and Stars [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1283243
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	A bed beneath the willow

The baby isn’t coming.

Or rather it is being quite obstinate about being evicted from its home for the past nine months.

Eli shrieks, both in pain and frustration.

“Just breathe,” the midwife says, squeezing their hand, drawing another sigil above Eli’s forehead with morning dew. Earthblood magic hums through the air, attempting to soothe Eli’s rapidly fraying nerves.

“I’ve been doing that!” Eli hisses, “for the past three _hours_!”

The midwife nods, looking rather unworried. “That is not unusual, Eli.”

“Bullshi-!” Eli almost screams as another contraction hits.

Their blood is burning in their skin as Eli reaches out to the Earth Arcanum, trying to find stability and unable to grasp it.

“Mama, mama!” another voice cries from the doorway, Diawyn, their young daughter, only eight, her dark curls in disarray, “there’s someone to see you!”

“Really?” Eli gasps. “Not the best time, pumpkin.”

“Indeed,” the midwife agrees, “ah, almost there. Push, dearie.”

“Oh for the love of that is green-” Eli snarls and pushes.

An hour later, Eli holds their son in their arms, breathing a sigh of relief as their midwife weaves healing magic about them both.

“Thank you,” Eli says quietly, “I know we pulled you from slumber.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the midwife says, smiling. “It is my duty.”

“Mama?” Diawyn peers around the rounded willow frame of the doorway, her green eyes wide.

“Meet your little brother, pumpkin,” Eli says, beckoning their daughter closer.

Diawyn scrambles up onto the bed, snuggling up to Eli’s side.

The midwife smiles at the sight, bundling away the soiled linens and sheets, before gracefully withdrawing from the room.

“Did you pick a name yet?” Diawyn asks.

“Not yet,” Eli says, “I thought I would ask Enkii for inspiration.”

Diawyn nods, “I think that’s a good idea.”

Eli laughs, “Good. Could you light the incense for me?”

“Yes!” Diawyn says, almost bouncing as she points at the incense stand that sits at the edge of the room, a small statute of Enkii, Lord of Stone, sitting just behind it.

The God’s eyes are carved of bright emerald, and they gleam in the light of the flame that Diawyn conjures.

“Born on a sacred day,” Eli murmurs to their son, who stares up at them with the palest green eyes they’ve ever seen. “The first day of the Sprouting festival, and the day when Enkii rose from His long slumber to walk the world anew.”

Diawyn bounces back to the bed, “I’ve got it!”

“Oh?” Eli asks, readjusting, so they hold their son more comfortably.

“Pyrus,” Diawyn says, “Like the trees!”

“The pear trees, you mean?” Eli asks.

Diawyn nods.

“Pyrus...” Eli considers it. The brush of warm magic against their skin, right over their heart confirms it.

“Yes,” they say softly, “Hello little Pyrus.”

Pyrus only coos at them, blinking slowly.

A soft cough at the doorway makes Eli look up, finding Councilor Amrys of the Skywing standing there, her dark blue wings folded behind her, silvery eyes watching solemnly.

“Councilor,” Eli says, “I take it you came to see me.”

“This one was unaware that you were in labor,” Amrys says, bowing her head, “forgive this one for her trespass at this joyous time.”

“Babies do not give you a date at which to expect them, Councilor,” Eli says dryly. “Something of import has happened, I take it? Did you already speak to my uncle? It is he who is Councilor, I just handle the day-to-day issues that arise.”

There is a look on Amrys’s face that bodes ill, her wings flattening to her back as she steps further into the room.

“Councilor?” Eli asks.

“-your uncle,” the Skywing elf says, twisting her hands before her. “He...he has passed to the Stone.”

Eli blinks.

“-What?”

“The position is now bestowed to you,” Amrys says, “Forgive this one for bearing such sad news.”

“He’s dead?!” Eli says, shocked.

“Yes.”

“Fuck!” Eli shouts.

“Mama! That’s a bad word!” Diawyn says.

“I know, pumpkin,” Eli says, “Mama is just…annoyed.”

“This one was not aware that you and the Councilor were on...bad terms,” Amrys says.

“I’ve been...handling more of my uncle’s duties as Councilor over the past year, as he’s been...less attentive to them than he should be...” Eli says bluntly.

“Ah,” Amrys says, nodding.

“Oh sweet Enkii,” Eli breathes, “That makes me the youngest Councilor in what, a thousand years?”

“This one believes you are correct,” Amrys says. “Though Councilor Morwen was the last from before the Age of Dark began. All the other Councilors are barely older than yourself.”

Eli squints at her, “You don’t look my age, Councilor.”

“This one has aged somewhat gracefully,” Amrys says with a wry smile. “This one also brings news that the Queen Regent has been seen about the skies. Our Archmage has gone to seek something in the Spines-for they were worried about a strange storm brewing.”

“Many strange things seem to happening of late,” Eli says, shifting Pyrus to their other arm, so as to wrap Diawyn in an embrace. “Give me time to rest, Councilor and I will meet with you in two days to discuss what must be done. Uncle’s tree will be planted at sunset tomorrow, after the rest of the Council has been informed.”

“As you wish,” Amrys says, “This one is glad to see another friend on the Council despite the sorrow that it may bring you.”

Eli nods, stroking their son’s dark head.

Amrys bows and departs.

“Mama, does that mean you have to attend meetings at the Topaz Pavillion?” Diawyn asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Yes, pumpkin,” Eli says, sighing. “I will. Have to dress up fancy too.”

“Ewww.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Eli says, casting a glance over their wardrobe with a grimace. “How about you and Auntie Sala go to the market tomorrow and find something nice for me, okay?”

“Nothing yellow,” Diawyn says immediately, “You look terrible in yellow, mama.”

Eli snorts, and adds, “Nothing with lots of bows. And you can get something for yourself.”

“Okay!” Diawyn cheers.

Eli gently rocks Pyrus, wondering what kind of future this new Council might forge. With the Dragon Queen still sleeping, and the Regent ruling in her stead, who knew what might happen next?

Eli just hopes that it is a peaceful one; they would like to see their children grow up in a world unmarred by war.


End file.
